The Gravedigger
by high-striker
Summary: Sometimes it just takes time for our perspective to change. Sometimes it takes nearly losing the best thing that’s ever happened to you. Luckily, that change doesn’t have to be for the worse… Nick & Warrick slash


Title: The Gravedigger

Author: HighStriker

Pairing: Nick & Warrick

Summary: Sometimes it just takes time for our perspective to change. Sometimes it takes nearly losing the best thing that's ever happened to you. Luckily, that change doesn't have to be for the worse…

Warning: Slight spoilers for Grave Danger (Although I pity those who have yet to see that episode…), and a spoiler from Warrick's past.

* * *

He hated shovels. Everything about them, because as far as he was concerned, nothing good could come from them. They weren't particularly heavy, but the forced repetitive motion, the strain it could put on one's back took their toll.

Especially on a college kid just trying to get by.

He still remembers the blisters that he'd go home with. The sores and cuts, along with the occasional splinter from the rough wood handle. At the time he'd wondered a lot about how so many people could actually need graves. He had wondered why it was necessary, when there didn't seem to be that many obituaries in the paper each morning when he tried to find a new job. It was complete morbid curiosity that made him read that section of the paper.

Because it made his job a bit more personal. It gave the person's grave a face, and instead of making up little random life stories in his head he actually had some idea of what these people had done. At times it sucked, times when they'd started digging, and he'd been told there was no need to make the hole so wide. He'd seen the service a few days later, seen the picture of a little girl lying by the small coffin.

And then he'd gone back to digging. Plunging the shovel into the dirt, pushing down on the hand before lifting and throwing the dirt off to the side. Such a simple, almost peaceful movement.

Even with the blisters he'd still managed to relax. Not like anyone was in all that much of a rush. It had always been slow and steady, not letting your body get exhausted so that you could keep digging for hours on end.

It had been nothing like that night. The night that none of them would be forgetting anytime soon. Then it had been all about moving quickly, trying to remain objective, hopeful that they'd get there in time.

After he'd moved on in life, found a job as a taxi driver he'd sworn to himself up and down that he'd never use a shovel again for as long as he lived. Though he hadn't really been able to keep that promise as a CSI, he had always been able to find a simple excuse as to why it didn't count.

And just like everything else had that night, the promise had flown right out the window. It didn't matter in the slightest bit. He hadn't wasted anytime tearing the shovel right out of some newbie's hands. There just wasn't time to waste.

He'd spent six long months digging graves. And he had one last one to dig.

Only this time it wasn't so that another body, another corpse, could be buried. It was so that his best friend could breathe real oxygen again. It was so that his best friend would live to see the next sunrise, that he would be able to see the stars.

It was so that Nick would be able to live.

He'd hated that job with everything he'd had. Hated the thought of digging another person's grave; he hated every single aspect of it. Because he'd never wanted to know what the most efficient way to dig a grave was, he didn't want to become one of the far more morbid types that he worked with.

But, things change. His hatred of that job had dissipated that night, because the more he thought about it, the more he wondered if Nick would still be here if he hadn't had that job.

Digging graves took time, and the county was cheap. They'd made sure that their workers could dig graves quickly, efficiently. He'd learned ways to dig those holes faster than almost any of the other workers, and by the end of his employment he'd been able to shave a good ten minutes off the time it had taken him to dig his very first one.

There hadn't been any spare time that night. An extra minute, possibly even an extra ten seconds and they might not have made it to Nick in time. It made him feel good to know that such an experience might have helped save Nick's life, because it made him feel necessary, made him feel important. Which, while he'd never admit it, was important to him.

That night had changed his perspective on a lot of things.

It had made him value his past, his present, and the chance for a future.

It had made him realize that life is short- that he needed to live while he still could. Gave him the chance to understand just how important family and friends are to have around.

It had also made him stupid enough to go out and get married to someone he would never be able to love.

Luckily, he could look back on that and smile. Because it was a mistake they'd remedied a long time ago. A mistake that never should have been made, because deep down, no matter how hard he'd tried to fight it; he'd always belonged to Nick.

And now that worked both ways.

"Would you shut up and sleep already?" The voice is tired, thick southern drawl hitting with it's full force.

"I didn't say anything, man."

"No, but you're thinking _way_ too loud. Now get over here and get some sleep."

Earlier on in their relationship he would've given a sarcastic remark about being bossed around, actually if he was more awake he still probably would have given one. But at the moment it's exactly what he wants anyway, so without the slightest hesitation he rolls over towards Nick's side of the bed, and wraps his arms around what's his.

"I love you Nicky."

"Damn straight."

He smiles widely, pulling Nick even closer to himself before he even thinks of trying to sleep.

Sometimes it takes awhile, but once you get the right perspective, everything in life just seems to fall right into place.


End file.
